Life Shepard Style
by The Magical Carrot Of Doom
Summary: Tim Shepards life aint easy; his family's a mess, some idiot girl is pretending he's her childs father, that girls sister seems to want allegiance, or somthing of the sort, and one of his gang is facing ten years. Thank god HE seems to be sain, for now...


Hi, everyone. Thanks for reading this. I'm trying to keep it historically correct, and it takes place in 1996, starting April 4th. Also, I'm looking for a beta reader, it would really help. Thanks.

"There's a leak in kitchen"Angela said, walking into the living room. Her newly short hair ruffles and there were bags under her eyes. She never got much sleep anymore, no one really knew why.

"Did you put a bucket underneath?" Curly asked. His sister had moved back into the house, and no longer had a husband to wait on her hand and foot. Angela had been with Burk long enough that she was used to special treatment, and didn't exactly carry her wait.

"No, because I'm a total idiot" she snapped. The entire house hold was anxious; Tim was coming home from the cooler. It was the moment they needed. To Curly and Angela, Tim was a life line thrown just in time. There was no problem he couldn't fix; not the hole in the roof, not Angela's fix with that dick- Bryon, not anything. Even though he owned a small shack near Buck he preferred to spend the night at, he always made sure his siblings were provided for. That there stepfather wasn't being to bad, that there mother was stable, everything.

There mothers muffled voice came from upstairs; "Michael...please" Curly shifted uncomfortably whilst Angela snorted in disgust. A loud thud followed there mothers plea.

"Tim'l be mad if you don't do something" Angela spat at her brother, sitting down on the couch.

"Tim Ain't here" Curly responded, trying to imitate his brothers smooth, threatening voice, "So unless you snitch, he won't know" a little bit of anger seeped through his facade.

"You think he won't notice she's banged up?" Angela's eyebrows shot up, almost reaching her roughly cut hairline, "Tim ain't stupid, hes gonna notice"

"He won't know when"

"Ma'l slip up and tell him."

"Fine" Curly shot up and stormed upstairs. Fuck Angela. He would add her to the list of shity things in his life. The list that kept him up at night, hot with anger, knuckles clenched, to seething to sleep. Almost everything had been on the list.

"Michael!" he called to his stepfather as he entered his parents room. His mother was a wreck, brown hair hanging in her sweaty face, and a swelling on her jaw. Michael looked up, his fat, sweaty face turning red.

"Whatcha' want, boy?" his voice sounded like a car being dragged across gravel, raspy, deep, angry.

"There's a leak n the kitchen" he let his voice become casual, light, like it was a simple fact of life. That was the voice that drove Michael crazy. That, along with anything ells Curly did.

"Dummass" Michael growled as he slammed his hand onto Curly's face. Curly staggered a bit, but remained standing with his arms crossed. "Get out!" Micheal's had hit him again. Curly stumbled out, but he had accomplished what he wanted; Michael stormed down to the kitchen, leaving their mom alone.

"Honey?" His mothers voice called him, and he stepped back into the dark room. His mother looked...pathetic. Her hair was a mess, she must not have showered in a while, and she was shaking. "Is Tim here yet?" of course. Tim, never Curly.

"No, Ma," he said, trying to control his anger, "Not yet"

–

Tim stared out the window of Damon West's car as he drove him to his 'house', where he would get into his _own_ car and drive to his old home. Damon had insisted on picking him up- apparently, there was something important going on, but Damon was to nervous to say it. He kept on opening and closing his mouth.

"Whats going on, Damon"Tim asked, tired of the awkward silence with his friend. He flicks his cigarette out the window and turned to look at him.

"Well, I figured you should know this before you got to town," his voice was steady and calm, "You know the Dushnells?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road to glance at Tim.

"Jerry Dushnell is second in command of the River Kings, right?"

"Yeah, and he has two younger sisters; Zoe, who's about you're age" he hated the way he said 'age', like being younger was a bad thing, "And another one, Phoebe, who's about Curly's age and pregnant"

"So?"

"Well, rumor has it _your_ the father" Tim chocked on his own spit.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"wish I was" Tim cussed under his breath.

"Who told you?"

"who ells? Sylvia" he hesitated, "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"Talk to Sylvia?" Tim suggested.

Damon shook his head, "I don't think she _started _it"

"But she may be able to trace it" _Crap_. Just out of jail and the rumors already started. "So, whats this Phoebe Dushnells deal?" Tim did _not_ like the limelight.

"I don't think that's what you should be worried about" of course, Tim knew that. He knew this would give the River Kings an excuse to fight them. He knew that he would need to find an excuse, quick. He knew this would put his visit with Curly and Angela onto the back burner. He knew that all. He just didn't want to deal with it.

"After dropping me of, go tell Curly I couldn't make it; gang Business" he adjusted his sunglasses. He didn't like to be seen without them; they made it _that much_ harder to tell what he was thinking.

"Fine" Damon groaned. He hated running family errands for Tim. Especially not when Curly was involved.

"I have something to settle"


End file.
